


Like Real People Do

by KatherineAJones



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, Drunk!Balthazar, M/M, Singing, Swearing, everyone's pining, hangovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineAJones/pseuds/KatherineAJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar gets drunk and texts Pedro to come over, with unexpected results. Fluff and cute, but with a little angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iboughtyouchicken (haleingoutside)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleingoutside/gifts).



> I though drunk!Balthazar would be really cute, so I got this idea. And then it sort of just spiraled. It honestly wasn't supposed to be this long, but it sort of just happened . . . Oops.
> 
> And the angst is Haley's fault. She's starting to rub off on me.

Pedro leaned against the doorway, smiling with his arms crossed as Balthazar dancing around the room to music only he could hear, swaying and humming to himself.

“Oh! H’llo!” Balthazar exclaimed, noticing Pedro, “Wha’re you doin’ here?”

Pedro’s lips twisted into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow, “You texted me to come over.”

Balthazar furrowed his brow and looked down at his phone in his hand, “Did I? I don’t remember . . .”

“How long have you been drunk?” Pedro asked, amused.

“Uhhhhh . . . a couple hours, I think. I don’t remember that, eith’r.”

Pedro nodded slowly, “Right. You’re going to have a massive hangover tomorrow.”

Balthazar shrugged, “Any’ing to forget.”

It was Pedro’s turn to furrow his brow, “Forget what?”

Balthazar’s face became contemplative, “I don’t remember. It’s a good thin’ I guess.” He shrugged and then his face lit up, “Ooh! Come dance with me, Peddy!”

“We don’t have any music, though.”

“Tha’s okay. I can sing.”

And who was Pedro to say no to that argument? So Pedro walked over to Balthazar, wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, and pulled him in close. Balthazar’s hands slid over Pedro’s shoulders and his arms looped around the blonde’s neck as he rested his head against his best friend’s strong chest. He started to sing _Like Real People Do_ by Hozier, his voice surprisingly steady for being so drunk.

Pedro leaned his cheek against Balthazar’s head, soaking in the feeling of Balthazar in his arms and his voice by his shoulder. God, how he wished Balthazar was sober while he was doing this. He could already tell it would hurt like hell in the morning when they woke up and Balthazar wouldn’t remember any of it.

The song came to an end but they kept dancing as Balthazar kept humming. Pedro didn’t recognize the song, but he didn’t care. In his mind, this would always be their song, trapped between wanting and having, in the quiet of a Saturday evening, with no one but each other to keep company with.

“You know,” Balthazar murmured, stopping his humming, “you look real good in black. Like, real good. I love tha’ color on you.” He was quiet for a moment before whispering, “I love you.” He pulled his head away from Pedro’s chest and looked up at the other boy, his eyes wide and earnest, “Do you love me?”

Pedro sighed and gave him a sad smile, “Yeah, I do.”

* * *

“Uuuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhhhhh,” Balthazar groaned as he became conscious, “I’m never drinking again.”

There was a chuckle beside him and his eyes flew open, which he instantly regretted as the light hit his eyes. Wincing, Balthazar turned his head to see who was next to him. He relaxed when he discovered it was just Pedro sitting on the bed beside him.

“I thought you were my father or something.”

“ _That_ would have been awkward.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” He closed his eyes to give them some relief from the light, his brow and nose scrunching up, “Ugh, why did I ever decide drinking was a good idea?”

Pedro shrugged, “You said something about wanting to forget something.”

Balthazar groaned and flipped over so his face was buried in his pillow and his arms were wrapped around said pillow.

“I take it by that reaction that you remember what you wanted to forget. You didn’t remember last night.”

Balthazar nodded, “Hand me a bottle so I can forget again.”

Pedro chuckled and ran his hand through Balthazar’s hair. He smiled when he saw the other boy relax a miniscule amount, “I don’t think that would be the best idea. You were pretty out of it last night.”

“. . . Yeah, speaking of that, why are you here?”

“You texted me to come over, so I did. Someone had to make sure you didn’t vomit in your sleep and choke on it.”

Balthazar grunted.

“I have pain meds and water.”

Balthazar lifted his head and rolled over before sitting up and holding his hands out, “Give me.”

Pedro smiled and handed him the requested items.

Balthazar took the medicine gratefully and then relaxed back onto his pillows, closing his eyes.

Pedro watched him for a minute, face blatant wanting.

And then Balthazar leaned over the side of the bed and threw up.

* * *

“I still feel like shit,” Balthazar muttered, glaring at his now empty plate.

Pedro chuckled and took both of their plates to the sink, starting to clean up the mess that was made while making breakfast, “You probably will for the next few hours. You were really wasted.”

 

“Yeah, I caught up with that, smartass.” Balthazar snarked, turning his glare on Pedro.

Pedro held his hands up, a smirk playing with the corners of his lips, “Not my fault.”

Balthazar dropped his head so he was looking at the table table again, muttering, “Yes it is.”

Pedro furrowed his brow, “What?”

Balthazar waved it off and stood up, “Nothing. Just. You’re available to blame, so I’m going to blame you.”

Pedro nodded, pursing his lips, not totally convinced but willing to let it slide. “Well, we should probably work on hiding the evidence before your parents get home tomorrow.”

Balthazar agreed and they set to work putting the bottles with alcohol still in them back in the liquor cabinet (luckily, he had only pulled out two or three and they were still mostly full) and the now empty bottles (mainly beer) in the trash, which they took down to the curb for pick-up so the parents wouldn’t see. While they were at it, they tidied up the living room (hey, never hurt to make the parents extra happy) and made sure the kitchen was sufficiently wiped down.

Once that was all done, Balthazar grabbed his guitar and they lounged in the living room watching mindless TV as Balth picked at the strings, playing whatever came to mind.

Eventually, the song changed from some popular thing that had been playing on the radio a lot recently to something else. Something Pedro recognized but then also didn’t.

“Is that one of your songs?” he asked.

Balthazar shook his head, “Not one I’ve already written. I’m just playing around right now.”

Pedro nodded, but it was still bugging him. Why did it sound so familiar? And then it hit him. It was the same tune Balthazar had been humming the night before as they danced.

Balthazar gave Pedro a curious look, “You okay, man? You’re suddenly looking a bit pale.”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just . . .” Pedro took a deep breath, refusing to look at Balthazar, “How much do you remember from last night?”

“Uh, not much. It’s all sort of blocked out after about the second or third beer. Why?”

Pedro tried to shrug casually, but he was afraid it ended up looking more like a flinch, “Nothing. You just, um, started humming that song last night. That’s why it sounds familiar.”

Balthazar furrowed his eyebrows, “That’s not unusual. Considering the number of times that you alone have told me I start singing when I’m drunk, you should know that better than anyone.”

Pedro turned his head the opposite way and looked down at the floor as he murmured, “Yes, well, you’ve never done it while dancing with me before.”

He hadn’t expected Balthazar to hear it. He hadn't wanted Balthazar to hear it. But when the strumming on the guitar stopped and the room was filled with silence, he knew he hadn’t been quiet enough.

“. . . What?”

Pedro quickly glanced at Balthazar and then looked forward again, “Yeah. I don’t know. You texted me to come over, so I did, and then you asked me to dance with you, so I did. And you sang and then you hummed, and you hummed that song. So hearing you play it reminds me of dancing me with you.”

Balthazar whispered, terrified, “Oh God.”

Pedro turned to look at Balthazar, confused, “What?”

Balthazar was staring at Pedro with wide, scared eyes, “I freaked you out, didn’t I?”

“What? No, not at all! I just mean that . . . well, never mind.”

“I didn’t by any chance ask you to kiss me, did I?” Balthazar asked sarcastically.

“No?” Pedro made it sound like a question, raising an eyebrow. And before he could chicken out (and maybe before he even really thought about the consequences), he asked, “Would you like to?”

Balthazar gave Pedro an unreadable look and whispered, “Why would you ask that?”

Pedro shrugged. If he had already gone this far, he might as well throw caution to the wind, so he only hesitated a second before replying, “Because I’d like to kiss you.”

Balthazar’s breath caught in his throat and he stared at Pedro in disbelief long enough for Pedro start shifting uncomfortably and wishing he could swallow the words back.

“Do you really mean that?” Balthazar whispered, setting his guitar aside and shifting just a miniscule amount closer.

Pedro nodded, his eyes locked with Balthazar’s, “Every word.”

A brilliant grin lit up Balthazar’s face, “Then kiss me.”

In response, Pedro surged forward to press his lips to Balthazar’s, one hand holding the musician’s face like it was the most precious thing in the world and the other wrapped firmly around his best friend’s slim waist.

In later years, Pedro held firm to his opinion that it was the best kiss ever. Which left Balthazar constantly trying to outdo his younger self.


End file.
